


you’re not alone in this

by agetwellcard



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3530522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agetwellcard/pseuds/agetwellcard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy follows Clarke after she leaves because it's the only reasonable thing to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so hey this is my first piece of fic for the 100 fandom. this is just the first little chapter/preface/whatever you want to call it. but hopefully it's okay and i'm not completely ooc. tell me what you think/if i should continue. thanks.

Bellamy has done a lot of reading.

Years on the Ark gave him ample time to learn about a range of topics he never even knew existed until he cracked open dusty books that he had found carefully stowed away in the library. With Octavia sitting across from him at the table, her eyes carefully watching the way her needles weaves in and out of the material she’s patching up, Bellamy read aloud.

He never pre-selected any of what he read about, but after a few trips of surreptitiously stuffing the books into his bag after a long day of training, his arms stiff and sore, he started to realize that he was mostly taking them from the history section.

He liked history, though, and so did Octavia. They weren’t on the ground, but sometimes, as Bellamy’s voice retold old stories about fallen kings and wars that would never be won, they almost felt as though they could be. Bellamy always hoped he could walk right out of his flat and instead of being on the Ark, he could be on the ground, leaving a classroom.

One book in particular stuck out to Bellamy. While Octavia huffed in that way he knew met she was bored with this one, Bellamy kept reading to himself. It was a Napoleon Bonaparte biography. They had only made it through the preface and the first few chapters about his childhood, but Bellamy was transfixed.

According to the readings, Napoleon was obsessed with power, and even felt as if he was nothing without it. One of his teachers even said that Napoleon could do great things as long as he was in favorable conditions.

Even with his training for the guard, Bellamy only had little moments of power. They were enough, though, to make him crave more. They were enough to take these things Napoleon felt and compare them to himself. They were enough for Bellamy to want his own favorable conditions.

Everything fell to pieces after Octavia was discovered. All hopes of becoming someone with power and making a difference in the guard were dashed by his thoughtlessness and a solar flare. He traded in his gun for a mop and got pushed around by everyone. Not only was he guilty for the death of his mother and the imprisonment of his sister, but he was also a nobody.

It only makes sense for him to shoot the chancellor, to protect his sister. He didn’t think that after everything (namely the way his hands shook when he felt the familiar metal trigger against his finger right before he pulled it) he would end up finding his favorable conditions.

The ground is everything he dreamed of, not that Bellamy had ever really been very passionate about going home. The fairytale ends after a few days, though. It has to end because the world isn’t beautiful, and Bellamy has known this since he held his younger sister and realized she was a secret.

People listen to Bellamy, though. He finally has power and he’s with his sister. These should be his favorable conditions and he should be happy, but it’s not like how he expected. He can’t make these decisions without upsetting half the camp, or at least Clarke.

But life keeps going and the grounders keep harassing them, and the events unravel quicker than Bellamy can keep up. He doesn’t feel like a leader anymore, not with the way that he’s trekking through the woods with only a few of his people, the rest seemingly disappeared. It doesn’t get any easier when he’s roaming the halls of the fifth floor of Mount Weather, his uniform too big for him, scratching against his skin uncomfortably. And even when things seem like they might work out, it’s Clarke that has to ruin the peace.

Everything is difficult and Bellamy just wants for things to finally be simple in his life.

It used to be easier, when it was just them, the first hundred and those few blissful days when they didn’t know about the grounders, or the few blissful weeks they didn’t know about the mountain men. Now, they know everything, and the earth isn’t what it used to be.

Those pictures Bellamy used to see in the books he stole from the library, the one’s with the suburban homes and roaring cities isn’t the earth he’s living on. Everything is darker, including Bellamy and, as of recently, Clarke.

Despite it all, Clarke is the thing that surprisingly makes things a little easier. She’s smart, and every word out of her mouth is something that Bellamy thinks makes sense in the end, even if he can’t find the logic at first. It’s almost irritating how she’s always right, and the way that she does things for the ones she loves so easily.

And that’s why Bellamy can’t let her go off by herself, especially when he knows—when they _all_ know—what is waiting for her in those endless woods.

He’s following behind her, close enough to see her a few hundred feet ahead, and he can see that with every few steps Clarke is touching the base of her gun, as if she’s worried it’s gone. Bellamy knows then that this is the right thing to do even if it was hard to leave, especially without Octavia.

He had made sure that she was the first person he found before rushing after Clarke. She was waiting by the gates, eyes peering after Clarke, but mostly searching for someone else. When he tried to convince her to come along, and maybe get Jasper or Monty to come too, she forlornly shook her head and tried to explain to Bellamy what Clarke had done. He still hadn’t told her it was his own doing, as well.

It was only after she stayed firmly on the ground, eyes still looking for Lincoln, did Bellamy know that this was useless. He might have been able to get Monty to come along, but even that seemed like a lost cause, so he hugged her, noting that their separations were growing longer and longer, and then went to find rations and more bullets for the gun he had on him perpetually.

Making sure not to step on a twig as he follows Clarke, he knows Octavia is going to be fine without him. She doesn’t need him anymore, and that’s why Bellamy is trying to help Clarke. He tells himself that that is the only reason, that there can’t be more to this than just wanting to help people that matter to him.

It only takes Clarke a few hours for her to realize Bellamy is following her.

There’s a single misstep, one where Bellamy is in deep thought about what comes next, when his foot catches on a tree root and he doesn’t recover fast enough. His knees collide with the ground accompanied with a soft groan. Just as Bellamy is trying to jump up and make sure Clarke doesn’t see him, she whirls around and goes, “How long were you planning on follow me?”

Bellamy is still on the ground, eyes watching as Clarke comes over and inspects him for injuries like the good nurse she’s always been. She doesn’t offer him a hand up, though, and instead rests them on her cocked hips.

“You can’t just leave,” Bellamy tells her matter-of-factly once he’s finally off the ground.

Clarke doesn’t look as shaken as she was before, and simply shakes her head with a morose expression on her face. “I can’t go back. Not after what I did.”

“Then I can’t go back, either,” Bellamy tells her sternly. He walks a little closer before going, “I did the same thing as you, Clarke. You’re not alone in this.”

She refuses to hear this, and turns away, walking back on the trail she was going.

“Clarke, you don’t even have any food. How many bullets do you have left? You can’t just wander through—“

Clarke swiftly turns around again, face close to his when she nearly shouts, “I know how to survive, Bellamy. I’m still here because that’s the only thing I know how to do.” Bellamy tries to place a hand on her shoulder because he doesn’t want to fight, but she shakes him off and steps backwards. “Follow me all you want, but I’m not going back.”

 _I need you_ is on the tip of Bellamy’s tongue, but all that comes out is, “We need you.”

Clarke just purses her lips and continues walking. Bellamy figures she just needs time. After a few days she’ll be ready to come back. She’ll miss her mother and everyone else back at camp. All Bellamy has to do is accompany her for a few days until she’s ready again.

After everything they’ve been through, this should be easy.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turns out i wrote a lot today, and it seemed silly to wait to post it. so here is the next chapter. more to come soon. thanks.

They only walk for a few hours before Clarke settles down to make a fire. As the sun sets from above the canopy of the trees, Bellamy watches the colors through the leaves. He’s got his arms behind his head, propping it up a little so he can simultaneously watch Clarke and then look up to the sky. Even after all the time he’s spent on earth, he hasn’t gotten over the colors of the sunset. He wonders if Clarke has, or if she even has the time to appreciate this kind of stuff.

Bellamy knows where they’re going. At one point in time, the woods were just mazes of the same scenery for miles, now, though, Bellamy can easily navigate through them. He’s worried about the destination, but doesn’t voice it. If this is what Clarke needs, then she just needs to get it over with and then they can go back home.

Not that the grounded Ark will really feel like their home anymore.

As a strip of orange blends into a pink, Bellamy goes, “Can you believe how long we went without seeing sunsets?”

Clarke looks up to Bellamy, the fire smoldering at this point, and then to the sky above her. He grins at the way she has to balance herself with one hand firmly on the ground as she stares up. Her hair falls down her back with the way her head is titled up, and Bellamy almost wants to reach out and play with the strands. He keeps his hands to himself, though, and goes back to admiring the sunset.

“I would have waited longer,” Clarke says quietly, “if all of this wouldn’t of happened.”

Bellamy has to keep himself from sighing. He just wanted a simple conversation. “We all would have died on the Ark,” he tells her.

This quiets Clarke and she looks over to him with a crestfallen expression on her face. Bellamy flicks back to the sky, only to find the colors nearly all gone, the sun nearly finished for the day.

“They’ll probably send out a search team for you,” Bellamy tells her.

Clarke just looks guilty. But that’s mostly been her thing since they’ve gotten out of Mount Weather.

“Your mom probably misses you too.”

“ _Bellamy_ ,” Clarke warns, voice harsh and broken. She sounds as if she might say something on the matter, but then she goes, “Take the first lookout.”

He nods, sitting up, the sky now fully dark above them, and unconsciously places his hand over the gun he has lying next to him on the dirt. He’s exhausted and wishes he too could fall asleep like Clarke, but he thinks that Clarke probably won’t be able to do that, especially when Bellamy is watching her face and he way the fire illuminates her features and softens them and her eyes flicker open.

She doesn’t seem startled to find Bellamy watching her and instead softly asks, “You know you don’t have the same amount of blame as me, right?” Bellamy is about to object this, say that it was his hand on top of hers, but then she cuts him off. “I was the one that told Monty to do it. I was the one that shot Wallace.”

“We both did it,” Bellamy says, shaking his head and not listening to what she’s saying. He’s just as guilty as she is, and he won’t let her make him think anything else. They’re both to blame, and the pain in Bellamy’s chest when he thinks about it is fair. He deserves this.

Clarke doesn’t say anything else, just gives him a long look before closing her eyes and drifting asleep. For the rest of the night, the only thing he hears is the crackling of the fire and the wind blowing through the trees.

***

They find their way to Mount Weather early the next morning. Clarke never said that was where she was going, but Bellamy knew, maybe even from the moment he started following her.

Bellamy knows that there were already plans being made about going back to the mountain and salvaging what was left, and he also knew that those weren’t Clarke’s intentions for this trip. He isn’t sure if he’s hoping that there will already be others there, people that can maybe jog Clarke’s memories on home, or if he wants it to be just the two of them.

As they creep through one of the doors, Bellamy and Clarke hold their guns out, eyes sweeping the room to make sure they are alone. It’s only a matter of time before the grounders get news of the end of the mountain men reign. There doesn’t seem to be anyone inside, though. Each corridor is eerily silent, and as they pass open doors and empty rooms, Bellamy shivers a little.

It only grows worse as they make their way to the dining hall. With each step closer, the smell of the dead bodies grows stronger. Bellamy almost catches Clarke’s shoulder to tell her this isn’t a good idea right before they make it to the entrance, but he only walks beside her, their shoulders barely touching.

All of the bodies are still as they left them. Arms are still dangling off the sides of tables, and patches of red are still covering the skin of nearly every person. Bellamy’s eyes nearly instantly close in on a pair of young girls curled up next to each other. They can’t be older than twelve years old.

The only thought in Bellamy’s head is that he did this. This is his entire fault. He backs up a little, head whirling, muttering, “ _Clarke_.”

She doesn’t turn back around to see Bellamy, and instead walks into the room, carefully stepping around the bodies. Bellamy curses under his breath, not wanting to go any further, but he follows Clarke, keeping his eyes up and away from the bodies.

They stop in front of Maya. Her hair is fanned out over the ground, eyes closed from Jasper’s gentle, shaking hands. Clarke drops to her knees in front of her. “Jasper’s never going to forgive me.”

“He will,” Bellamy forces out of his mouth confidently.

“How could he?”

Clarke’s looking up at him, glassy eyes searching for an answer. “Because we need each other,” he tells her quietly.

Bellamy watches as she stands back up, eyes scanning the room before turning back to him. “We need to make graves.”

“Okay,” he says, knowing this would happen. He figures she just needs closure, and making graves can do that.

If this is what she needs, Bellamy will help her.

***

After spending at least half an hour searching for something to dig the holes and carry the bodies with, they come up with a shovel they find in storage, and a cot they find in the medical area. They re-enter rooms that Bellamy remembers walking through in disguise, cap low over his eyes in case someone was looking too closely, and he can feel the emptiness in his bones. He almost wishes there were still people roaming the hallways.

They find a door that leads out to a grassy area that is inhabited with wild flowers and bright green blades of grass. The first person they carry out is Maya, Bellamy’s hands careful as he folds her arms over her chest, and as Clarke is digging the hole, Bellamy briefly runs his hands through the plants until he decides he should go search for another shovel.

He vaguely knows the floor plans for the mountain, but decides to forgo it as he opens up random doors and rifles through closets for anything. He ends up going down a familiar hallway, and he knows exactly what door he is pushing forward when he makes his way to the security room.

All the screens are blank and the room is dark until Bellamy switches on the lights to find Wallace still lying on the floor. His entire shirt is stained red and so is the floor next to him. Bellamy grimaces as he walks closer.

When Bellamy first got to earth, all he wanted was power. He wanted to be important again, and for people to care about him and listen to whatever he had to say. Now, with the former president’s pool of blood a few inches from the soles of Bellamy’s shoes, he thinks this isn’t how he thought power would be.

He knew it before, though, but now it seems delusion for Bellamy to ever want power. All the choices you have to make, and the sacrifices, and the compromises. Admittedly, it’s all too hard for him. And evidently it is weighing on Clarke too heavily, as well. He had never seen someone so natural rise to power like she had, though. Being in control is innate for Clarke, but dealing with the aftermath isn’t. And that’s why she needs Bellamy just as much as he needs her.

He leaves the room empty-handed, and heads back out to find Clarke. When he walks outside, the wind from the top of the mountains blowing his hair around, he finds Clarke stooped over a half-dug grave. The shovel is off to the side, and Clarke’s shoulders are shaking.

“What happened?” Bellamy asks frantically, rushing over to her. His mind races with all the possibilities, and he’s scared he might be responsible for more pain.

Clarke keeps silent, but she looks up to Bellamy with tears in her eyes. He instantly feels sick at the sight. The way her wet cheeks shine under the afternoon sun, blond hair whipping around her face, feels like a sensory overload to Bellamy.

Without thinking, Bellamy pulls her up to bury her in his arms. He can feel her shaking, and he isn’t sure what to say or how to handle this. He keeps his palms flat against her back as she leans her head against his shoulder.

Her voice is muffled from Bellamy’s shirt, he can just barely hear Clarke go, “There are no good guys.”


	3. Chapter 3

They spend hours trading off the shovel as they dig the graves. Bellamy has countless blisters on his hands, but he hides the way he winces as he wraps his hands around the shovel for Clarke. They get through too many to count, and by the time Bellamy has to drop the shovel and wipe his sweaty palms against his pants, he decides they need to eat something.

Clarke is hesitant to follow, but they make their way back to the dining hall and then to the kitchen. They find countless storage units full of food, and Bellamy is amazed by the neat rows that seem to be endless. He wonders how they kept everything fresh as he scans all of it, trying to decide what to have.

Clarke has her arms wrapped around her torso as she stares at the ground. Bellamy stifles a sigh as he goes, “You have to eat, Clarke.”

“I’m not hungry,” she says instantly.

“You didn’t eat anything yesterday, and you’ve been digging all day,” Bellamy tells her. “You need to eat something. And _water_ , you need water.”

Clarke stays put, eyes still glaring at the floor. Bellamy purses his lips and then moves forward to grab a few cans at random. He finds a can-opener in one of the drawers in the stainless steel prep area, and sits Clarke and himself down at one of the stations. Bellamy opens a can for Clarke first, hands slowly working open the lid of the can. He hasn’t eaten things out of a can since the Ark.

“Thank you,” Clarke tells him softly, using a fork to swirl around her meal.

Bellamy discovers he’s grabbed a few cans of sliced peaches that are mixed with a gooey substance. The taste is completely foreign with the first bite and he’s nearly started with how sugary it is. Clarke and him exchange equally impressed faces as they eat in silence.

It’s not until Bellamy is opening up another can that Clarke smiles at him. Bellamy smiles back. “It won’t be long before they find all of this and go back to the strict rationing. Eat it while we can.”

Clarke’s smile grows as she snatches the can Bellamy is now eating out of, and uses his fork to eat one of the slices. Bellamy tries his best to look unimpressed, and Clarke laughs softly, the corner of her eyes crinkling up as she hands back the can. He’s almost too distracted to take it back since he’s drinking in the view. He’s not sure when he’s going to see that smile and hear that laugh again.

Right before he’s about to attempt to say something else to keep her smiling, they hear the sound of a door closing. Bellamy jumps up, placing the can of peaches down, hands instantly reaching for his gun. Clarke does the same and they exchange a glance before mutually walking forward slowly.

Bellamy’s mind races with who or what it could be. The woods seem endless and the longer Bellamy has been on Earth the more he has found out that they are not empty, and he is not alone. He’s scared the grounders might have already found the place and have come to claim it for themselves.

In sync, Clarke and Bellamy carefully peer around the corner to find a familiar man staring out at all the people in the dining hall that have yet to find graves.

“ _Lincoln_ ,” Clarke breathes out, dropping her gun and walking over to him.

He doesn’t seem as horrified by the scene as Clarke and Monty had been, but he does look anxious, and Bellamy knows why. He turns to Bellamy instead of Clarke when he asks, “Is she okay?”

Bellamy nods. He knows she’s still okay, too. She has to be because Bellamy knows she knows how to protect herself. He’s seen her fight, and yet he thinks there will always be that looming thought in his head that is worried about the well being of his younger sister.

“She’s back at the Ark,” Clarke supplies.

“Then why are you here?” he asks.

Bellamy tightens his jaw and goes, “Getting supplies.”

“We’re digging graves,” Clarke says, ignoring Bellamy.

Lincoln gives Bellamy a hard look before going back to the scene in front of him. He scans the room before nodding a few times. “I should get back to her. So she knows I’m okay.”

“Be safe,” Clarke warns instantly.

“We’ll be back soon,” Bellamy assures him. Because they will be. Once Clarke is ready.

Lincoln nods goodbye, and Clarke puts her hands over her chest and stubbornly glares at Bellamy as he walks away. Lincoln turns back around though, and goes, “I killed Cage.”

Bellamy squints at him. “ _What_?”

He had thought about the man for a bit earlier that day, but he figured he couldn’t have gotten that far in these woods.

“That’s good,” Clarke says.

After a few moments where Bellamy thinks Lincoln is going to say something else on the matter, he doesn’t and then makes his way out of the room and back to finding Bellamy’s sister. Once he’s left and safely out of distance, Clarke goes, “I’m not coming back.”

“We have a lot more graves to dig,” Bellamy reminds her, deciding it best to ignore Clarke. He knows she’ll come around.

***

They finish the last one a few hours after it gets dark. Bellamy is just covering it up, hands wrapped in fabric so they don’t sting as bad. The graves stretch out for several feet past the door, all in neat rows. They only have one marked grave, and it’s Maya’s. It’s off to the side, with a few flowers Clarke had ripped from the ground on top of it. Bellamy thinks Jasper will definitely be back to see it and to say goodbye again.

Not everyone is lucky enough to have a grave like Maya.

It doesn’t seem right to sleep in the bunker, but it’s the safest place and both Clarke and him know it. So, they trek through the building until settling for a room as far away from the dining hall as possible. They lock the door and make sure to barricade it for safe measures so they can both sleep, and Clarke finds blankets and pillows and takes one of the couches. Bellamy sits across from it in a loveseat, watching her carefully.

“What’s next, Clarke?” Bellamy asks tiredly.

Clarke rolls over so she’s facing Bellamy. “You go back to camp. And I leave.”

Bellamy can’t listen to this argument anymore. He’s too frustrated to even try to convince Clarke that she can’t disappear on them. “You know they bled me, right?”

“ _What_?” Clarke asks. She looks alarmed, sitting up a little, her eyes looking over Bellamy like he’s still upside down and she’ll find the needle marks.

“The plan didn’t work out. And…” Bellamy trails on, eyes settling behind Clarke’s head as he forces himself to go further. “And they thought I was a grounder so they put me in a cage and then bled me.”

The memories make Bellamy shudder, his hands squeezed into angry fists when he thinks of how vulnerable he was and the way they treated him. He can still feel the metal hoop they put around his neck like it was a leash and Bellamy was just some wild animal. He doesn’t want to think about it all, but he’s almost positive this is his last resort, and that Clarke needs to hear this.

It doesn’t stop the uncomfortable feeling that’s burning under his skin and in his stomach when he remembers hanging upside down, completely disoriented as wires fell from his body and his clouded mind tried to wrap around the situation.

“Maya found me, though, and I didn’t have time to do anything else but go and help my people, Clarke. I couldn’t just run away.”

He hopes he isn’t being too cruel, or that he’s only giving her another thing to worry about, but _he’s_ too worried that she may never come back. And Bellamy can’t go back to the Ark empty-handed now.

“Bellamy,” Clarke mutters, voice full of worry, and Bellamy hates the way that she says it. It’s only full of pity, and that’s not what he was looking for with his story.

“I didn’t give up, and you can’t either.”

And when Clarke looks at him now, Bellamy thinks he just might have convinced her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the kudos/comments thus far. they really help to keep me writing :)

_Bellamy is in a cage. His fingers are clinging to the metal, and he’s using all his force to try to free himself. There is a girl staring at him in the cage beside his own. She doesn’t say anything to him, but her eyes follow every movement he makes._

_When a few people walk into the lab, they come directly for Bellamy, unlocking the cage and yanking him out. To his own horror, Bellamy can’t do anything. He feels lethargic and unsteady, hands practically glued to his sides as the doctors start to strap something to his feet._

_All he wants to do is scream out for help. He needs Octavia, his mother, Clarke, Finn. Anyone really. Before he even knows it, he’s strung up by his feet, his fingers just barely touching the ground. The needles prick into his neck and Bellamy can see the thick tube that is going red with his own blood._

_Bellamy tries to thrash around, but he finds himself completely unable to do anything but hang there and feel the way his blood is taken out of his body. He feels like crying as he just wishes there was somebody to help him. He’d take anyone._

_Just as he’s thinking it, someone enters the room. Although Bellamy’s vision is clouded, eyes heavy with exhaustion, he instantly recognizes the young boy. He’s got on a backpack and a blue button-up shirt, and Bellamy wants to amend himself when he thought he wanted anyone to help him. Anyone but this kid with his backpacked labeled with the name “Lovejoy”._

_The boy stares at Bellamy for a few moments, face red and blotchy, and Bellamy knows it’s because of radiation. Finally he asks, “Where is my dad?”_

_Just behind Bellamy, he can make out the fuzzy shape of a body. Bellamy knows exactly whose it is. Trying to open his mouth to apologize, nothing comes out. He can’t say anything. If his tongue could work, Bellamy would try to explain to him why he had to do it, but nothing is working._

_“Where is my dad?” he asks again, voice sounding like it’s echoing through the room. He’s crying now, fat tears rolling down his face._

_Bellamy still can’t say anything, and then the kid starts to walk closer and Bellamy is certain this is where he’s going to die, but then he doesn’t._

He’s jolted awake, face sweaty and heart beating rapidly. His neck is sore, too. At first, he’s not even entirely sure where he is. He sits up, eyes still heavy as he rolls his shoulders and gingerly touches his neck. Before he can deduce it’s just because of the way he was sleeping, he jolts into realization that he’s at Mount Weather. The weight of the situation falls back onto him.

As he tries to forget about the dream, he looks to the couch across from him for Clarke.

The blankets are puffed up, and Bellamy thinks Clarke is still there sleeping, but when he steps closer, he realizes there is no body. Alarmed, he swiftly turns to the door to find the barricade gone but the door securely shut.

“Fuck,” Bellamy sighs out, snatching his gun off the coffee table and scooping up his backpack.

The halls are just as quiet as before, and Bellamy can hear the echo of each rushed step. Nearly panicking, Bellamy starts to sprint, legs on fire as he heads towards the one place he hopes Clarke will be. He finds the door to the outside still ajar, a light breeze hitting Bellamy before he’s nearly blinded with the brightness of the afternoon.

Right outside the door, Clarke is on the ground cross-legged. Bellamy keeps one hand on the door as he drops his shoulders and breathes out a sigh of relief, his heart still beating rapidly.

Clarke realizes she’s not alone and stands up. Facing Bellamy, she goes, “Ready to leave?”

It takes a minute of shock, but Bellamy finally nods. “Yeah, I just need to get some stuff,” he tells her. “I saw some whisky yesterday. Thought Jasper might want it.”

With a curt nod, Clarke follows him back into the bunker and Bellamy heads toward where he saw the small, rectangular bottle, but make a point to also stop by the storage room to grab a few of the books he noticed the other day, as well. Clarke watches curiously for a moment before her eyes scan all the paintings that are on the walls and piled on shelves.

“Do you think they’ll take them back to camp?” Clarke asks, fingers dragging down one of the paintings. She appears to be admiring it, and it’s then that Bellamy remembers she likes drawing.

“I’m not sure,” Bellamy mutters, grabbing a few different paperback books by random that aren’t too thick. “I think I saw some pencils in here. Wanna grab some?”

Clarke looks up to him from the painting, eyes still vulnerable and too easy read, so much unlike how they usually are. Bellamy only saw a flicker of the hard Clarke, the one who can mercilessly shoot people to save her friends, when they thought there weren’t alone in the bunker, but now she’s back to being small. He’s almost positive that Clarke doesn’t like people to see this side of her, especially when usually everyone needs someone who is strong when everything is falling apart. But Bellamy is allowed to see her like this.

“I’m fine,” Clarke says. “But I was thinking I want to stop at the dropship.”

Bellamy doesn’t particularly like the idea, and is worried she might just be trying to prolong the inevitable even longer, but he nods, knowing that it will be fine. Bellamy hasn’t been there in what felt like forever, but he figures one quick trip can’t hurt.

He wants to ask Clarke why exactly she wants to stop there. They would only find a similar scene to the one they found here. More death because of their own actions. But Bellamy has to tell himself that those actions were the reason he and the people he loved were alive. It doesn’t stop the pain he feels in his chest, though.

As Clarke heads for the door, Bellamy grabs a few pencils he sees lying around and stashes them in his bag. She’ll want them eventually, he figures.

The walk to the dropship is quiet. The woods are mostly empty, save for a few animals that are wandering around and make Bellamy whirl around, gun at the ready only to find a small rabbit. The relief of finding that instead of a grounder is overwhelming, though.

Eventually, just before nightfall, they arrive at the dropship. As Bellamy had expected, there are still bones covering the grass, and he almost steps on a skull as he walks towards the dropship. These deaths, though, don’t make Bellamy ache as much the ones at the bunker. These were soldier deaths, they signed up for this, but the people that died at Mount Weather never signed up for anything.

“Lexa was never going to forgive me for this,” Clarke says, the toe of her shoe just barley touching a skull that was cracked in half.

Bellamy hates thinking about the grounders. Now that the alliance is broken, he knows that more trouble will be waiting for them once they got back to Camp Jaha. For now, he’s happy to have these calm moments alone with Clarke. Bellamy thinks that this trip hasn’t only helped Clarke, but also himself.

“Why does everyone have to die?” Clarke asks, voice despondent as he looks on to the graves outside the half-broken gates. “I don’t want for someone else I love to die.”

Bellamy knows she’s thinking of Wells, and probably Finn, and maybe even her father. He struggles to come up with something to say to her that won’t sound unsympathetic. People die, though, and mostly unfairly, and Bellamy has seen it his entire life, starting the day he watched his mother get floated.

“I don’t want you to die.”

This catches Bellamy off guard. He looks to up to Clarke’s eyes, her own staring deeply at Bellamy. It sounds like a confession, but Clarke is confidently staring back. Bellamy doesn’t want to misconstrue this information, so he carefully replies, “I don’t want you to die, either. And that’s why I wanted you back home.”

Clarke smiles a little, and Bellamy can’t help but to grin back. With a few strides, Clarke is wrapping her arms around Bellamy with a tight grip. He instantly hugs back, one of his hands holding the back of her head as she leans into him. Her hair is soft under his fingers, and the harsh pain that’s nearly always lingering in his chest is softened.

When she pulls back a little, to look at Bellamy’s face with bright eyes, he’s not expecting the way she leans in and kisses him. It takes a few beats for him to even kiss back, but once he does, everything seems to click into place.

The feeling of his brain that’s constantly thinking too hard about every little thing clicking off as he kisses Clarke is seems almost too good to be true. But he doesn’t have to think about what comes next for them when he carefully nips at Clarke’s bottom lip.

They pull back for air, though, and Clarke is smiling, and Bellamy knows he’s probably grinning like an idiot. She looks like she’s about to say something sweet, but then in the span of milliseconds, her face contorts into fear and she shouts, “ _Bellamy_!”

Confused, he starts to turn around where her eyes are looking past him, but before he can figured anything out, he feels a sharp pain on the back of his head and then everything goes black.


	5. Chapter 5

Bellamy remembers his guard training really well.

He had to get up early every day, at least three hours before his first school lesson began. He’d pull himself from his bed and look for Octavia. Usually, she’d be curled up on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket that Bellamy had taken from his own bed. Other days, she would already be up, legs pushed against her chest as she stared at the door. Bellamy never had any time to comfort her in the morning, though, and would try his best to offer to get her something for breakfast.

Mostly, he’d be out of the door with only a few minutes to spare. The ship was too quiet and nearly empty as he traveled the halls, his heavy black boots reverbing through the small area. He didn’t particularly enjoy the guard, but it let him have a chance at making things better for Octavia and his mother. Plus, he liked to know he had some kind of upper hand to the rest of the colony. He knew it would only benefit them as Octavia got older and the laws aboard the Ark got stricter.

Everyone lined up, bodies tired from the early morning, and they did their basic routine consisting of things like pushups and jumping jacks. Bellamy always liked this part. It was the one thing that was always set, and would never change. There was nothing unexpected about their exercise routine.

There wasn’t unexpected room checks, or wondering if Bellamy’s mother would remember to get food, or even come home at all that night. There wasn’t the uncertainty that constantly followed Bellamy around outside of training, and he loved that.

But once it was all finished, and Bellamy had attended his few morning classes, he found his way back to his flat and prepared lunch for Octavia. This is when they usually read and Octavia worked on her sewing. It was nice, but Bellamy was exhausted, and each night after the whole day was over with, his entire body was nearly aching, eyes fluttery from how badly he wanted sleep.

That’s how he felt now. His head was pounding, but he wasn’t sure from what, and he wanted to go back to sleep for a few more hours. He wasn’t even entirely sure what had woken him, but then he felt a hand wrap around the top of his arm, and he snapped open his eyes only to find more blackness. He had something over his head.

Now, he was being dragged up into a standing position, and there was nothing he could do because he felt his hands tied together. Suddenly, the memory of the kiss and the look on Clarke’s face afterwards came back to Bellamy. In a moment of panic, Bellamy tried his best to get away, whole body thrashing against whoever had a strong grip on him.

He only feels another pair of hands grab ahold of him and he instantly goes, “Clarke?”

“It’s okay, Bellamy,” is the instant reply from Clarke, voice calm and steady from beside him.

There are a million questions he wants to ask, but more specifically he’s worried why Clarke sounds so calm. There’s not enough time for an interrogation because Bellamy is being pushed down onto his knees and the cloth over his face is whipped away.

Bleary from the harsh, bright light, Bellamy has to blink a few times for his vision to focus in on a familiar girl sitting across from him.

“ _Lexa_ ,” Clarke sighs out, like she expected this all along.

The girl who looks much older than the last time he saw her, despite the fact that not much time has even elapsed since their last encounter. She’s on a throne in the center of the room that Bellamy is almost certain he’s been in before. He looks between Clarke and Lexa, who are just staring at each other heatedly.

He’s still trying to figure things out when Lexa finally goes, “You’re lucky. If you had been anyone else you’d have been killed on the spot.”

To Bellamy’s surprise Clarke only snorts. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I’ve been looking for you,” she replies indifferently.

Bellamy wants to step in front of her protectively and not let anything happen to her, but with the way Lexa is looking at her, he doesn’t think she found Clarke just so she could kill her. He feels like he only knows half the story, even if he’s been told it on an eight-hour walk back from Mount Weather.

“Why?” Clarke asks now.

The corner of Lexa’s lips curl up just a little, but not enough for a smile, and then she turns to Bellamy, ignoring Clarke, and goes, “Who is this?”

“Bellamy,” he supplies himself. “Let us go. We haven’t done anything.”

“Take him away,” Lexa says nonchalantly to the guard with a hand still wrapped around Bellamy’s arm. “Clarke can stay.”

Just as Bellamy is trying to push away again and get back to Clarke—even if he knows it’s futile—Clarke turns to him and goes, “Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you.” She says the last part to Lexa, like she’s challenging her.

“What about _you_?” Bellamy spits out of his mouth, but he can’t even find out what she’s going to say because he’s shown out of the room.

With a strong grip, he’s dragged to a small room that feels like a prison cell. They shut the door and the Bellamy can hear a lock clicking into place. He instantly scans his surroundings to look for some way out, but it’s an enclosed room with no windows and no other door beside the one he’s sure is being guarded even if he could unlock it. Besides that, there is no exit strategy in a place like this.

Bellamy nearly goes crazy waiting for Clarke. His hands are still tied together in the front of his body, and he spends most of his time trying to somehow slip out of it with no avail. He can’t just wait around like this, though, and is still pacing the small space when Clarke enters.

Her hands are untied and she’s led in instead of dragged. She seems relieved to find Bellamy unharmed, and as the door is clicked shut again, Clarke pulls out a small knife in her sleeve and cuts through the rope around Bellamy’s wrist, her fingers cold on his skin.

“What’s going on, Clarke?” Bellamy asks, rubbing the red skin on his wrists. “Why did she want you? Is it about the alliance?”

Clarke look strung out just then, and Bellamy watches skeptically as she slides down the wall, knees pressed against her chest. She shakes her head. “It’s not about the alliance.”

When she doesn’t continue, Bellamy starts to wonder how serious this is. “Clarke,” he says desperately, needing something. “You have to help me out. Are we okay?”

“She won’t kill me…and I’ll make sure she won’t kill you,” is all she says.

“Why are you so sure she won’t kill you?” Bellamy asks. “She left our people to _die_ , in case you forgot.”

“She won’t, Bellmay, so drop it.”

Bellamy wants to drop it, so that Clarke can stop giving him that pointed look, but he has no idea what’s going on. He needs some type of control, and now that he doesn’t have it, he feels restless to regain it. “Why are we here?” he asks, this time using a quieter, more patient voice.

“They know about what we did,” Clarke tells him slowly. “And they want to know more.”

Finally giving in, Bellamy sits down next to her against the wall. “We’re going to get out of here, right?”

“Definitely,” Clarke replies confidently.

Her hand is on the ground next to Bellamy’s thigh, and he carefully places his down next to it, so that their fingers are just barely touching. They share a few seconds of warmth, ones where Bellamy knows he can trust Clarke about all of this, but then Clarke pulls her hand back like she’s been burnt.

Bellamy’s not entirely sure if he’s getting the full story anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmm wonder when bellamy's gonna find out :)


	6. Chapter 6

Although Clarke had slept a little, assuring Bellamy that they wouldn’t be needed until tomorrow morning, Bellamy refused to. He stayed upright, eyes constantly flickering over the sleeping girl beside him. She looked so peaceful, and Bellamy wondered how she managed to not be haunted by all the nightmares that Bellamy had to deal with.

Time moved slowly, and Bellamy isn’t even entirely sure what time of day it is when Clarke finally wakes up, rolling her shoulders a few times as she gives Bellamy a small smile. He wants to ask more about what’s going on, but he’s worried it will only ruin her half-good mood. Just when Bellamy thinks she was finally getting better, and they were en-route back to Camp Jaha, they were back to being captives, or at least Bellamy was.

Still unsure of the time, two guards enter the room. Bellamy looks to Clarke, confused by how sure of the situation she seems. “We’re having a meal with them,” she supplies.

“ _What_?” Bellamy hopes she’s joking, though that seems incredibly unlikely. “Do they not remember the last meal we shared?”

Clarke gives him a sharp look as the guards tell her and Bellamy to follow them. They aren’t restrained or dragged, and Bellamy’s mostly grateful for that but also confused. Clarke looks anything but small as she walks ahead of Bellamy. It’s strange to see how quickly she’s changed rolls.

They’re led to a hall with a long table in it, similar to the last time. This is different, though. If Bellamy had thought he didn’t feel welcomed last time, he certainly does now. The only two empty seats are directly across from Lexa, and Clarke is confident as she sits with her eyes following Lexa.

No one touches their meals until Lexa says something in their language that Bellamy doesn’t recognize. Once she does, though, the room grows from silence to the loud roar of a dining hall. Lexa keeps her eyes on Clarke until she takes a bite of the piece of meat she has on the plate in front of her. Bellamy watches curiously, wondering if this is some sort of power trip. He’s never seen Clarke like this.

“Bellamy,” Lexa says, name foreign sounding on her tongue. He keeps his hands on his lap as he looks at her tentatively. She’s doing the same, but her eyes are calculating, like she’s sizing up Bellamy. “You were the inside man at Mount Weather, were you not?”

He nods, keeping his mouth shut.

“And you watched them all die?”

Bellamy glances at Clarke, who doesn’t seem affected by this. Bellamy goes rigid, though, and nearly spits out, “I did. Because you left me and my people there to die.”

“You have to make hard decisions when you’re a leader,” Lexa says. There is no remorse in her face, even when confronted with a person she left to die, and it infuriates Bellamy. “Like how Clarke made a decision to kill the Mountain Men for your people to survive.”

“That was different. We weren’t in an alliance with them,” Bellamy nearly shouts. From beside him, Clarke is giving him a pointed look, which clearly is saying for him to stop talking.

He’s about to, but then Lexa goes, “Or like how Clarke fled Tondc before the missile hit.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke says softly, panicked look on her face.

“What is she talking about?”

“The meeting at Tondc. When Clarke and I found out about the attack, we fled,” Lexa explains.

He feels sick when he turns to Clarke. “ _What_?”

“We had to,” Clarke explains. “Or else they would’ve found out about you. You would died and so would have everyone else.”

Hearing her confirm this only makes Bellamy push his chair back so he isn’t so close to her. He feels his whole body trembling with anger when he says, “Octavia was at that meeting.”

At this point, the whole table is quiet and listening to their conversation Bellamy looks down the table at all the people who must have known this, and had maybe even been in the city at the time. He doesn’t understand how they can all trust Lexa.

Clarke doesn’t say anything, only looks guilty under the harsh look Bellamy is giving her.

“You were going to let my sister die,” Bellamy says, “And everyone else there. All more innocent people.”

“Octavia isn’t dead, Bellamy,” Clarke tries to say.

Bellamy stands angrily, nearly screaming at Clarke, “It doesn’t matter! It’s the fact you would even do it.”

As all of this is going on, Lexa is watching with a satisfied expression on her face. Bellamy wouldn’t be surprised if she planned for this to happen, and maybe even haggled the truth for Clarke to do something. He can’t even try to think about the possibilities, though, because the thought of Clarke leaving his sister to die at Tondc while Bellamy couldn’t do a single thing about it because he was stuck at Mount Weather makes him shudder.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke tells him, but it doesn’t seem vaguely sincere. Just like Lexa, the remorse on her face is nearly non-existent.

Bellamy can’t sand to be around her, and without thinking, he gets up and heads for the door. He doesn’t know where he’s supposed to go, or if he’s going to leave Clarke all by herself in hostile company, but he doesn’t care. At the door, though, guards block his way and Bellamy tries to push past them only to be pushed right back. He nearly stumbles to the ground from the force, but keeps his footing. He spots a chair in the corner of the room and heads for it.

The meal carries on whether Bellamy is there to pretend to enjoy it or not. He can hear the soft murmurs of Lexa and Clarke, and wonders what they’re talking about. If Bellamy’s lucky, Clarke is discussing a compromise for them to leave, but he has a feeling that isn’t it.

Bellamy’s leg keeps bouncing without him thinking about it as he wonders if Octavia is okay. He knows it was stupid to leave her all alone to go find Clarke. Clarke can obviously look after herself. He’s still beating himself up about everything when one of Lexa’s guards walks up to him.

She’s got her head help up high, and Bellamy’s met her before but can’t remember her name. “You’re Octavia’s brother?” she asks.

He nods. After Octavia was found out, Bellamy was asked this question constantly, but never with this tone.

“I was in Tondc with her for the meeting,” she tells Bellamy.

Stifling his scoff, Bellamy goes, “And you still trust Lexa? Still protect her?”

“She did what she had to do.” Bellamy is starting to hate this excuse. “That’s what makes her a good leader.”

Bellamy stays quiet. Octavia is okay, but his head wants to play loops of different ways she could have died that day. Bellamy wasn’t there to protect her when he said he’d always be. Those moments are starting to add up, too, and he’s worried that one day there won’t be an option for him to be there or for him not to be.

“You’re lucky to have Octavia as a sister,” the woman finally says to Bellamy. “She’s very strong. And loyal to her people.”

“I know,” Bellamy replies instantly.

She is very strong, and sometimes Bellamy forgets that. Sometimes he still looks at her like she’s a little kid, big eyes begging to not be stowed away under the floor again. He’s not sure when he won’t able to see that same little girl whenever he looks at Octavia, but he feels like he needs these kind of reminders.

The woman, who appears to want to say something more on the matter, just nods a little before walking away. Bellamy watches her walk back to stand next to Lexa and Clarke, who are huddled close as they talk about something. Everything feels like a secret, and Bellamy doesn’t have the time for secrets anymore.

He’s about to walk over and confront them, but then Clarke nods to Lexa once more before turning around and walking towards the door, eyes lingering on Bellamy for a second in a beckoning way. Even though he’s still angry at her, he dejectedly follows her, feeling Lexa’s gaze on him as he walks out.

Escorted by only one guard this time, they’re locked back in their cell. Bellamy has a lot questions he wants to ask, but he doesn’t want to talk to Clarke. He goes to the corner and sits, feeling exhausted. He needs to sleep, and the food he rejected could have been beneficial at a time like this.

Clarke is smart enough to leave Bellamy alone, and he’s grateful for that, even if there will always be that small part of him that never wants to fight with Clarke.


	7. Chapter 7

They can only sit in silence for so long.

Bellamy nods off for a bit, but eventually he ends up jolting back into reality when Clarke coughs a little. Sitting up, he watches the way Clarke paces the cell just as he did yesterday. He hopes she isn’t worried about how they’ll get back home because Belllamy was under the assumption she _did_ actually know what was going on.

“I told Lexa I’d stay here,” Clarke finally says, breaking their silence.

Bellamy bristles. He’s still upset with her, but not enough to want her to stay in grounder territory. “Jesus, Clarke. Why?”

“Don’t worry, I just told her I would,” Clarke explains, “but I won’t. I need her to trust me. Then he can we sneak out.”

“And how long is that going to take? A few days or a few weeks?”

Clarke doesn’t look nearly as devastated about this as Bellamy feels. “It’s the best I can do to keep you alive.”

“I don’t understand how you just know she won’t kill you,” Bellamy tells her. “In case you forgot, she left us to—“

“She _loves_ me. That’s why.”

In surprise, Bellamy just laughs. “What are you talking about?” It’s such an absurd idea and Bellamy wonders if this is some kind of game to her.

Clarke doesn’t look like she’s joking, though, and only looks upset. She walks closer to Bellamy and slowly goes, “When I first met Lexa, she told me that love was weakness. And then she kissed me. I am her weakness, and that’s why she broke the alliance the first chance she could. She doesn’t want weakness.”

He’s not even entirely sure what to say to that. Almost immediately he doesn’t want to believe Clarke, but he knows that’s foolish because Clarke doesn’t lie to him anymore, especially not at a moment like this, face so vulnerable and honest as she waits for some type of reaction.

Bellamy just feels hurt, though. His chest feels tight and he tries his best not to show it. Carrying a torch for someone like Clarke isn’t easy, and Bellamy didn’t mean for all of this to happen, but the feeling of inadequacy is new to him. He’s never felt not enough for a person, but suddenly he’s in the running with someone like Lexa and they’ve kissed and to Bellamy this all seems so important.

Clarke is still waiting for Bellamy to say something, looking pained as her big eyes stare at him. Bellamy swallows thickly and tries to come up with something to say, but then the door is opened, and the guard grabs Bellamy’s arm like before.

Clarke seems surprised by this visit, and starts to open her mouth, but before she can figure anything out, Bellamy is yanked out of the room alone, the door slammed shut. He starts to panic, worried that Clarke’s attempts at saving him was futile, and that the grounders are going to mercilessly kill him. He tries to pull away from the grip, but another guard is quick to grab back ahold of Bellamy and keep him on track.

Bellamy isn’t about to give up, though, and uses all his strength to push against the guards. This only elicits a sharp elbow stab to Bellamy’s face. “Don’t make me tie your hands again,” the guard says in a burly voice.

Swaying from the hit a little, Bellamy can feel blood dribble down onto his lip. He sighs out a few curses just as they enter a room where Lexa is seated on her throne. When she sees Bellamy approaching, she doesn’t bother to sit up, and instead remains slumped into her chair looking disinterested. It makes Bellamy irrationally upset, especially since he thinks he might be executed in a matter of minutes.

Before she can get a word out, though, it’s Bellamy’s turn to size her up. He almost does it without thinking. She is pretty, eyes bright and body fit from all the fighting she must do. She’s also strong, though, and Bellamy is almost certain this has to be a desirable trait for Clarke. Her chin is always raised high and eyes always ready to make brash decisions, but smart one’s too.

Using the back of his hand to wipe the blood from under his nose, he spits, “What do you want?”

Lexa only smirks assuredly. “Clarke talks highly of you,” she tells Bellamy. “Trust you greatly, as well.”

“That didn’t answer my question,” Bellamy says. It’s only then that he realizes they are alone. All the guards have left them. Either Lexa trusts Bellamy, or she highly underestimates him.

“I was trying to come to an agreement with Clarke about where our alliance stands,” Lexa says flatly.

Bellamy is quick to say, “It doesn’t.”

“Exactly,” she says, “and that’s why I think we need territories. And I want Mount Weather.”

For a second, Bellamy is surprised. He would have thought Clarke would be quick to give that up after everything it will only inevitably remind her of. But it makes just a little sense at the same time. Bellamy doesn’t think Clarke wants to live there, but winter is coming, and Bellamy already feels the chill, and he knows Clarke does too. They aren’t prepared for a winter, but the grounders are.

“We paid the price for that,” Bellamy tells her, forcing himself to sound perfectly fine with that. They paid the price in the guilt that Bellamy still feels. And he knows Clarke is, and will only continue, to be torn up about it.

Lexa hums. “Yes, but my army is much larger than yours. So, if you want to try to keep the bunker, my people will only take it back. And kill your people.”

She says the last part like an afterthought, but Bellamy knows she is serious. She’s right, their army is big, and Bellamy know no matter how protected they could make the bunker, it would only serve as their prison.

There’s also a small thought in his mind that he doesn’t even want to entertain. If they did move to the bunker, would they not become their own version of the mountain men? Would they want to follow in the footsteps of the people they’ve massacred? When will their own destruction come if they do? Bellamy doesn’t think it’s smart, but he doesn’t know any alternatives to a winter that his people are unprepared for.

Then it comes to him.

“Your army won’t be strong enough,” Bellamy tells her confidently.

Lexa scoffs, smug smile on her face.

“It won’t be because there is nothing to keep it together anymore,” Bellamy explains. “The mountain men are dead. There is nothing keeping the tribes together.”

“Your people is what will keep us together,” Lexa tells him. She’s definitely irritated. “And I’m trying to make this better for you so the sky people do not fall to the same fate of the mountain men.”

Dangerously, Bellamy steps forward a little. He’s staring down Lexa when he goes, “And you’re doing that for my people, or for Clarke?”

This is the first thing Bellamy’s said that makes Lexa’s face falter. Her lips part in confusion, eyes searching his for proof that he _knows_. When he just cocks his head menacingly, she gets her confirmation. And maybe it’s not fair, especially with the way she looks hurt, maybe even heartbroken, but if Bellamy isn’t allowed to have Clarke then neither is she.

“It’s for peace,” Lexa finally says.

It’s Bellamy’s turn to scoff. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Lexa doesn’t say anything, and Bellamy wants to leave more than ever. He wants to get Clarke and leave this place and get back to Camp Jaha. Things might even be calm for a while, and maybe Bellamy can even get her to kiss him again. He wants for things to feel normal for even a few days. He’s sick of this relentless chaos.

“Just let Clarke and I leave,” Bellamy says. “Let us leave, and leave us alone. The alliance is over, and me and Clarke haven’t done anything wrong, so just let us go.”

Lexa only stares at Bellamy, like she’s still trying to size him up, and Bellamy angrily turns around and marches out of the room. Sure enough, guards are waiting for him, and one of them brings him back to the cell. He wants to make a dash for it, and see how far he can get, but he knows he can’t leave Clarke. He _won’t_ leave Clarke.


	8. Chapter 8

Bellamy doesn’t stop to think when he heads back for the cell and then yanks Clarke up from the ground with an angry, “Come on.” The guard gives them an annoyed look, but doesn’t argue when Bellamy starts for where he was just at.

Like before, the guards leave Bellamy and Lexa alone, only this time Bellamy has some leverage, whether he wants to use it or not. The doors shut and Lexa looks at the two of them with amusement. Bellamy knows what he’s about to do is brash and will most likely not end well, but he’s desperate and he needs to leave this place.

“I’m sorry about this,” Bellamy mutters to Clarke before his hand carefully holds Clarke before reaching under her sleeve where he knows she’s keeping the knife she had when she took off the rope around Bellamy’s hands.

In one swift motion, he’s able to pull Clarke into him and put the knife carefully over her neck. He’s worried he’s trembling because of the way he’s trying his best not to let the knife actually touch her skin. Once he has her uncomfortably tipping her head on his shoulder, he realizes just how risky and stupid this is, but it’s too late to do anything else now.

“Let us go,” he says flatly. “Let us leave or else.”

There is maybe a flicker of worry on Lexa’s face, but mostly she still seems amused and Bellamy hopes she’s just bluffing. Bellamy’s careful not to move, and thankfully Clarke is silent and still as he does this.

“This is how you plan to bargain your escape?” Lexa scoffs. “Your people speak so highly of peace and yet this is how you handle things.”

Bellamy can feel one of Clarkes gripping onto the extra material on the front of his shirt. He hopes by now they can trust each other.

“Sometimes peace isn’t an option,” Bellamy spits.

Lexa slowly stands and walks closer to them. Bellamy wants to back up, but he’s scared he’ll trip or move just a little too fast and Clarke’s blood will be on his hands. She only looks over them, eyes pausing on Clarke’s face. Bellamy hopes she can’t tell the knife isn’t even touching the skin of her neck.

“And neither is cooperation,” Lexa tells him, voice calm and unnerved.

Bellamy knows this is a lost cause. He should have guessed that Lexa wouldn’t be affected enough to do something. She’s a grounder. She thinks Clarke is her weakness. They can make these tough decisions. They can be cruel. Bellamy can’t, though.

Clarke must know this too because her hand sneaks up to grip Bellamy’s hand that is holding the knife. He flinches only a little, but is calm enough to hand the knife off to her and let her body go. He has a feeling that a knife is Clarke’s hands is more effective than his at this point.

She doesn’t use much force, or even touch Lexa, but Clarke holds the knife up to her. Lexa looks hurt, but it’s only a flash.

“I loved you,” Clarke admits, voice shaky and torn. “It could have worked, you know?”

Bellamy can’t even bring himself to look away from Clarke. Her face is crinkled up in pain, eyes glassy as she keeps the knife raised. He knows it’s just as hollow as a threat in her grip as it was in Bellamy’s. The meanings of the two are different, though.

Lexa isn’t saying anything, so Clarke continues, “How could you do that to me? You knew what it meant to me. You knew, and you just…” Clarke sounds like she’s holding back a sob, voice heavy. Bellamy wants to reach out and tell her she doesn’t have to do this. Clarke lowers the knife just a little. “You betrayed me. And you don’t even care. You don’t know what it feels like to be the person that had to decide to kill all those people in the mountain. You didn’t—“

“They deserved to die,” Lexa tells her. She doesn’t sound amused anymore, and Bellamy can tell she’s hurting just the same as Clarke is.

“No, they didn’t,” Clarke tells her defiantly. “They didn’t, and I killed them anyways. I’ve become you.” Clarke pauses, whole body sagging, the hand with the knife in it hanging limply at her side. “And I hate that.”

Bellamy is scared Lexa is going to put an end to this already with the multiple weapons he knows she has on her, but it never comes. Lexa is quiet for a few moments that feel more like minutes, and then nods her head. Without a word, she turns on her heel, and walks back to her throne.

“You can leave,” she says quietly. “But the mountain is ours.”

Bellamy wants to fight for it, but he knows this isn’t the time, not when they are finally given an out. Clarke lets out a big breath, and Bellamy grabs her wrist. He doesn’t let his grip slide down, so that their fingers can intertwine and he can try to tell her that things are going to be okay without having to actually say it. But he keeps his hand firmly around her wrist and tugs her towards the door.

When they open the doors, the guards peer in almost instantly to find out what their orders are. Lexa is back to having her chin held too high, but even Bellamy can spot the hurt, especially when she says, “Let them leave. Return their belongings at the gate.”

With a curt nod, the guard leads them out of the maze of rooms. Bellamy keeps his grip on Clarke’s wrist, and before they know it, they are facing a fence where a metal box is thrust in their direction. Inside, Bellamy finds his over-stuffed backpack with the whiskey and history books, and his gun. He takes his things and lets go of Clarke’s wrist so they can put on their backpacks.

When they walk past the fence, all the grounder watching them as Bellamy grips his gun even if the barrel is pointed at the dirt, Bellamy feels euphoric. All they have to do is make it back into the woods and then they’ll be okay. Forcing himself not to turn around, Bellamy keeps them going forward, until they are surrounded by the sound of the wind blowing the trees and the crunch of the dying leaves under their boots.

Once they are a good ten minutes from the camp, going in a direction that Bellamy hopes is towards their own, Clarke stops and nearly tackles Bellamy into a hug. Her grip is strong, yet still so fragile. Bellamy can feel Clarke’s hands balled into fists on his back as she pushes against him.

He decides it’s probably better if he doesn’t speak.

They stand like that for a few minutes, swaying a little, Clarkes breath hot on his chest. Bellamy knows they need to keep going, though, and he gently pulls away, enough to give Clarke a meaningful look before they are off again.

***

Neither of them know exactly how to get back, and after a few hours, the sun has gone down and finding their way becomes much more difficult. Thankfully, though, Bellamy nearly trips on the handle of a car door.

They decide to stop there until the morning, and pull open the hatch to crawl inside. Bellamy looks around curiously, fingering the balls of fabric that are hanging near openings in the rusted metal. It’s crowded and not very comfortable, but he figures it will do.

Clarke and Bellamy sit across from each other in silence. Bellamy has one of the books he found at Mount Weather on his lap, and he turns the page as Clarke sighs and moves around a little. Bellamy doesn’t bother looking up, too engrossed in the book, until Clarke slumps down next to him and puts her head on his shoulder to peer down at what he’s reading.

“What is it about?” Clarke asks.

Bellamy flicks it closed so she can see the title. “Famous US battles.”

“Fun,” Clarke mutters, not moving her head from his shoulder. Bellamy lets the book rest on his lap and tries to breathe slowly.

Just as Bellamy goes, “What did—“ Clarke goes, “Look—“. Bellamy smiles to himself. “You go first, Princess,” he tells her.

“It’s just,” Clarke starts, voice quiet, not as amused as Bellamy’s. “I want you to know that I don’t trust Lexa anymore. Not after what she did.”

“I know.”

“And that I loved her, but it wasn’t like…” She pauses, picking up her head to look at Bellamy in the eyes. He knows what she’s going to say before she even does. “It’s not like us. I know you would never do that.”

Bellamy cracks a smile. “I did hold a knife up to your neck today.”

“You did,” Clarke says, laughing a little. Bellamy is reminded of the can of peaches they shared, and the matching smile she had on her face then. “I forgive you.”

“Thanks,” Bellamy mutters.

They stare at each other for a few moments until Clarke leans in and kisses him. Bellamy hopes this kiss might not end as poorly as the last one.

***

They make it back to camp in the late afternoon.

They arrive just as a group is coming back from Mount Weather with armfuls of supplies. They almost go unspotted until Abby runs to hug her daughter. Bellamy looks on, biting down the sliver of jealousy that he knows will always be there. He has Octavia to hug, though, and Lincoln to nod to.

All of what’s left of the hundred want hugs from Clarke or Bellamy, but Jaspers just watches, eyes glassy and arms crossed over his chest. Bellamy swallows thickly and walks up to him with the bottle of whiskey. He holds it out to Jasper, but he doesn’t take it right away.

“Did you two dig the graves?” he asks. Bellamy knows he already knows the answer. He still nods, though, and this prompts Jasper to take the bottle and go, “Thank you.”

Bellamy watches as he walks over to Clarke and unexpectedly pulls her into a hug.

The rest of the night is spent in long conversations with Kane and Abby about what to do next. Bellamy is exhausted, but he stays with Clarke until they finally call it a night after three hours of debating over Mount Weather.

Outside the Ark, there are still a few fires crackling, and Monty flags them over, offering the whiskey bottle to them. Clarke and Bellamy sit shoulder to shoulder, the foreshadowing chilly winds sweeping through the camp. They stay warm from the fire, though, and Bellamy looks at the faces of all his friends.

Octavia is laughing at something Lincoln has said, and Monty, Jasper, and Miller are all discussing some type of new berries they’ve found, and Raven and Wick are holding hands and watching everyone just the same.

He thinks about how if not for what Clarke and Bellamy did to the people at Mount Weather, these people could all be dead, himself included. He figures the guilt will always hurt, but at times like this it might ease up just a little. He looks over to Clarke, who must have been gazing at his silhouette.

They smile at each other and Bellamy hopes they’re thinking the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had Fun's "Carry On" stuck in my head when I finished this, and I think it fits the fic pretty well, to be honest. 
> 
> But thank you to everyone who has read and left comments/kudos! It really means a lot to me. Hopefully next up I'll right a fun AU since this was a bit angsty lol.


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